


For The Lore

by goblinchaos



Category: Original Work
Genre: Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29397027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goblinchaos/pseuds/goblinchaos
Summary: short stories for our ocs
Kudos: 2





	For The Lore

The flower was a gentle pink, near bubblegum, and soft as an avian feather, brushed in a waxy texture. It had laid in the dirt when they’d found it, its color bright beside the crushed green of its parent plant. A boot, perhaps, or an animal, had walked over it and squashed the poor thing, severing the flower from the earth.

They crouched there in the green, their fur lined red cloak, royal and heavy, dirted. They felt bad for it, in some odd way, as they took the fragile thing between their fingers. From behind rosy lenses, icy blue eyes, ringed with white and unnerving to any to meet them, glanced over. The once prince considered, though they knew nothing could be done. 

What they felt was not quite mourning nor was it disappointment. No, perhaps just displeasure. They could not save this poor flower, but this world had already given them too much to mourn, too much disappointment, to feel anything more than irritation over the early demise of a mere flower. And anyway, they were certain, should their roles be reversed, this flower would feel as they do, inconvenienced by the shade the prince’s corpse would cover it in. The roles were not reversed, however. Perhaps it could be enough that they could offer acknowledgement? The flower wouldn’t have.

Grayson could recall with startling clarity, for it was not long ago, the first time they had seen an organism such as this flower; an organism that basked in the sun all its life. And the other organisms of this world too, that thrived, not just survived under a luminous sun. They’d felt such wonder then, even as the sun burned their eyes, to be in a world without darkness. Then, night came and they realized they had always seen better in the dark—even when they did not know of its existence.

With a sigh, they stood with the wilted petals in hand, the other pushing the gold frame of their spectacles back up the freckled bridge of their nose. They brushed their cloak and straightened the shining crown upon their head, heavy with gems and gold.

As they turned to their pack intending to find a notebook to press the blossom into—maybe they could save it in this way at least—, their pointed ears lifted to the sound of a commotion. The sound of steel swords clamoring practically drummed in Grayson’s blood in its familiarity and like a siren’s song they were drawn to it.

In a blur of red amongst the forest green, they swept toward the noise, the flower forgotten. Graceful as a deer and quiet as a wolf, they stalked through the wood toward the clearing ahead. Two figures burst out of the treeline and it was only for the fact they seemed to be in a hurry that the knight was not noticed before they could slip behind a tree. They were clustered together, shoulders hunched as they spoke urgently.

A woman with pink hair and dark twisting horns grasped a sword loosely in one hand and the forearm of the man beside her in the other. She had a kind, beautiful face. The fear in her red eyes didn’t suit her. The other figure, gray haired with curling black horns, held a silver sword in a vice grip and spoke to the woman too softly to hear, but the inflections were worried. He shot a nervous glance into the forest beyond and Grayson’s assessing stare followed.

Another silhouette trudged through the brush in the distance, far but closing in quickly. Their voice, hoarse with anger, carried as they shouted and cursed. “Where is she, Gabe?!”

“Go,” the man begged, loud enough for Grayson to hear.

The woman dug her heel in, but her hands trembled. “No-”

“Now,” the other, Gabe presumably, interrupted firmly. He removed the woman’s grip on his arm, gentle and lingering in a way that spoke volumes before he turned into the wood, sheathing his sword as he went.

Grayson watched the two meet only for a moment before the inflections of an argument met their ears. They, however, were focused more on the woman before them, watching worriedly as her peach furred tail flicked in indecision. She stared at the ground, expression crumpled with fear. _Go_ , they silently urged, but her fists clenched and she didn’t move, clearly uncertain.

The argueing rose in volume, two voices cracked with emotion, and was broken by a shout, “Dark-!”

Their eyes snapped to the motion between trees as the unknown pursuer race through the trees towards them, Gabe left too far behind to catch up. The decision had been made for Dark and she turned on her heel to run like a sheep from the slaughter. Grayson’s chest twisted up with something akin to guilt or need.

“Dark, run! Stay away!” Gabe shouted as the horned woman scrambled back.

A tree root reached out as she hurried to run and she fell, ankle twisted up in the plant.

The prince’s sword was drawn in a large swing as their body tensed and sprung with the speed of lightning.

An arrow meant to meet the skull of the pink haired woman met instead the edge of Grayson’s sword. The arrow exploded in splinters as their armored form stood between Dark and her attacker. Their sword caught the sun, shining brilliantly as Gray spun it in a practiced motion back to their side. They squinted into the forest, the sun bright in their eyes, awaiting another attack.

A flash of silver and their opponent burst forward with a wild swing, full of passion and anger without any care. In perfect form, the prince slid a foot back and tilted their body away from the incoming sword. They pushed the guard of their own sword forward, almost lazy, and caught the offending blade. With a twist of their wrist and a wide arc of their arm, the blade was knocked from its owner’s hold and went flying into the air. It clattered and dug into the dirt beside Grayson’s boot. They shifted into their attacker’s space, pulling his arm forward to knock him off balance before a well aimed kick sent him sprawling in the subbery behind him.

Another god, they realized of their opponent immediately though they’d never even met eyes, just blades. Gray was not one to enter a fight ill-prepared, especially with a powerful being as this, even when their form was sloppy with anger. It was probably best to leave them to their lovers’ quarrel.

They swept around, cloak swirling behind them, to grab Dark’s arm. “Come with me!” They urged, sheathing their sword and easily hefting the woman into their arms.

“What the-?!” The woman spluttered in shock as she latched onto their neck to avoid falling.

They caught gazes, red and blue coming together. Gray felt their ears burn and their heart thump hard, unrelated to the danger. They broke the stare first, glancing away and then forward as they darted into the thicket.

“Thank me later,” they quipped with an easy grin.

Later, they would sit together far from the fight, tending to her twisted ankle, and Grayson would remember the flower from earlier as Dark’s hair caught the sun, heart thumping loud enough to hear. 


End file.
